Title: Creature FeatureAuthor: jstabeFandom: Teen WolfPairing: GenRating: GenSpoilers: for the show in generalWarnings: noneDisclaimer: I do not own these characters, some big huge corporation does.Beta: none

Derek is browsing the “2 for $1” aisle of the video store when the bell jangles and a familiar scent hints him. He freezes, hand hovering over “The Terminator,” as Stiles and Scott enter the store. He listens in without even trying.

“Does it have to be a scary movie?”

Scott’s voice is close enough to a whine to make Derek wince.

“What kind of werewolf are you that you can’t watch a scary movie?”

That just makes Derek wince. Have the two of them never heard of the word discretion? Derek is sometimes amazed that the entire town doesn’t know about the existence of werewolves strictly because of Stiles and Scott.

“I can watch scary movies,” Scott protests. “It’s just… those old black and white ones are creepy. I didn’t like that “Creature from the Blue Lagoon” thing you made me watch.”

Stiles laughs and Derek rolls his eyes. This is who he relies on during a crisis? Dumb and dumber over there, who have moved on to arguing the merits of monster movies versus slasher films? It’s a wonder Derek hasn’t died yet.

The debate is cut short when Scott’s phone rings. Derek doesn’t have to hear the change in Scott’s tone to know it’s Allison. He can practically smell Stiles’ resignation. He ducks his head, pretends to be studying movie titles while Scott thanks Stiles and takes off, presumably to go to Allison’s. He doesn’t look up when Stiles sighs heavily and leaves without renting anything.

Derek has no idea why he’s standing outside the Stilinski house, bag in hand. The Sheriff’s cruiser is gone, and he can hear Stiles moving around the house. He’s mumbling to himself and he just feels so… alone, in a way that Derek recognizes, but doesn’t like to think about too much. Squaring his shoulders, he tightens his grip on the bag in his hand and hefts himself into the tree near Stiles’ window. He’s got one foot over the sill when Stiles comes into the room.

Stiles flails and makes a squeaking noise that Derek will mock him for later. “Dude, what the hell?”

Derek rolls his eyes and comes completely into the room. “Quit leaving your window open if you don’t want me to use it.”

“I have a front door,” Stiles huffs as he flops down in his desk chair.

“More fun this way.”

“Whatever, dude.” Stiles stretches and turns toward his computer. “So, what brand of freaky are we researching today?”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just drops the bag he’s carrying onto Stiles desk. He shoves his hands into his pockets, trying to be nonchalant as Stiles digs through the bag.

“It’s not research. I just thought you might, umm, want to watch a movie.”

Stiles seems confused for a minute, then his shoulders hunch. “You were at the video store earlier, weren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Tomorrow at school, Scott is soooo getting a lecture on using his wolfy powers correctly.” Stiles looks at the movies in his hand, then back up at Derek. “Is this some sort of pity movie party?”

Derek frowns. “I don’t know how your mind works sometimes.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

Derek flinches, though he’s not sure why. Stiles is right; they aren’t friends. “I’ll go then. Just make sure you take them back tomorrow before midnight.”

“Or they’ll turn into pumpkins,” Stiles mutters, and really, Derek will never understand him. Stiles finally looks up, amber eyes intent on Derek. “You could stay? Umm, if you want? Which I guess you do because you didn’t just drop the movies on my bed and leave or something. So yeah, you should stay.”

Derek rubs at his temple, insanely glad that werewolves don’t get migraines. “Okay.”

Stiles beams at him, and bounces up from the chair. “Cool! Dad’s working a double, so we can watch them downstairs on the big screen. You like popcorn? Please don’t say no, not when I’m just starting to think you might be somewhat normal.”

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek says with infinite patience. “I like popcorn.”

“Awesome! Come on then, big guy.”

Derek sighs, but he dutifully follows Stiles downstairs. As they head for the kitchen, Stiles throws a look over his shoulder.